Malcolm and the Space-Time Kahn-tinuum
by Aurora Lenore
Summary: Malcolm Frink's life couldn't get much worse. Instead of only having to deal with Sam Collins and his lame friends, he has met a girl from the future who is driving him insane. Will he help her return home, or will he team up once again with Kilokahn for his own selfish desire?
1. Empress of Ebay

Lydia Henderson was bored. Very bored. She rubbed her tired eyes and looked away from her laptop screen. "There is only so much social media one human can read in a single day," she muttered before standing up and stretching. She wanted to invent something, but the creative inventing well in her mind was completely dry. She looked around her room at the various gadgets, all the things she had either invented or made modifications to and sighed. "I need a new adventure. I need a purpose. I need…to _travel_!" she declared, running to the far corner of her room where a large yellow sheet covered an object slightly taller than herself. As she pulled the sheet away, revealed was a large, see through box. It resembled a telephone booth in size, light blue neon lights outlining the frame as she tapped the side twice to turn it on. "Let's hope you're in top form today," she stated, saying a mental prayer before climbing inside. She smiled to herself as she observed the large computer screen and sat on the small stool in front of the keyboard. "I want to go slightly back into the past. But let's keep the date: October fourteenth, nineteen—"

Before she could finish typing, the computer modem hummed to life and the booth began to shake. "Wait; I didn't enter the year or the place!"

But it was too late. She and the machine had already disappeared.

* * *

Malcolm Frink internally growled as he watched his nemesis Sam Collins walk hand in hand with Jennifer Doyle down the hall of North Valley High. It should be _him_ with Jennifer, not goody-two-shoes Collins. She deserved a man who could bring mystery, danger, excitement, and wealth to her life. The only thing Collins could give her was death by boredom. He looked at his watch and had never been happier to see that in five minutes, he would be free from high school hell and back into his bedroom, causing chaos with his computer.

"Hey, Malcolm; you wanna buy a candy bar to help raise money for underprivileged kids?" Sam stopped suddenly to ask, holding out a box of generic chocolate bars.

"Do I _look_ like I want to buy any of your completely worthless confections? Now get out of my way, you pitiful excuse for a species!" he snapped, knocking the box out of Sam's hand, spilling the contents on the floor. "Good day, Jennifer," he added more sweetly before the bell rang and he dashed off, excited for what the evening could hold.

* * *

"Where am I?"

Lydia opened the door to her time machine and looked around. Wherever she was, the room was almost completely dark. Pulling a keychain flashlight from her pocket, she was able to tell that she was in someone's bedroom. Drawings of strange monsters and one girl in particular were lined on the walls and a bed fitted with black sheets was in the corner. On the other side of the room was a map of the world and a giant desk with two computer screens, a scanner/printer, and various electronic gadgets. She edged closer to the computer desk and gasped. "Man, talk about your ancient hardware!" After Lydia looked around her to make sure no one was near, she pressed the Enter button on the cream-colored keyboard. She doubted the old thing still worked, anyway.

"Good _evening_ , Meat-Thing," a voice suddenly growled at her. Gasping again, she looked up to find a strange man wearing a helmet and mask covering his entire face, a black robe and black leather-like suit with bizarre tubing attached. "Wait a minute; _you're_ not the Malcolm Meat-Thing," he concluded after a few seconds, red dots blinking where his mouth should be. This guy was quite the character!

"Who are you calling a Malcolm Meat-Thing? Is that some sort of code? And what kind of costume is _that_ ; you lose a bet at Comic-Con?"

"I am Kilokahn, ruler of the digital world!" he proudly boasted.

"Yeah, if you're ruler of the digital world, I'm Cinderella. But nice try," Lydia smirked. "You must be really into role-playing." She sat down at the computer, cracked her knuckles and began typing furiously. "How about I play a character named Lydigar, and I am the Empress of Ebay?"

Suddenly, she looked up and saw that the monitor still showcased the strange character, but not what she had typed. "What's the matter? Am I cramping your style?"

"You are an irritating meat-thing and I will eradicate you just as soon as I—," Kilokahn fumed, but stopped when Lydia quickly looked around.

"Someone's coming… _shh_!" she put her finger to her lips before diving underneath the desk.

Seconds later, she heard someone walk inside and toss what sounded like a heavy bag on the floor before pulling out the chair and sitting down. "Kilokahn, what are you doing online? I haven't _summoned_ you," a male voice queried in an eccentric mid-Atlantic accent.

"It's a long—and very odd story, Meat-Thing."

"Well, I don't have time to hear it. Let's get down to business, shall we?"

Lydia rolled her eyes and shifted her body ever-so-slightly, but as she did, the man's foot shifted, as well, kicking her in the ribs. " _Yip_!"

"What on Earth was that?" the man asked.

"Well, it wasn't _me_ , Meat-Thing," Kilokahn replied.

Lydia had to get out of here, but how? The man with the black rib-bruising boots had her blocked completely. And on top of that, she now had a sudden urge to—

"A- _choo_!"

 _Well, that did it,_ she thought to herself as the chair rolled backward and the man's face appeared, though shadowed by the darkness of the room.

"Who are you and what are you doing in my _room_?" he shouted, and she quickly slid out from under the desk, standing at attention. "How did you get in here? I want answers; _now_!"

Lydia gulped. While she could now see that the man was indeed a teenage boy about her age, it didn't make her feel any less uneasy. How was she going to get out of _this_ mess?

* * *

"Well? I'm waiting," Malcolm pressed, his arms crossed over his chest. "Or perhaps I should just call the authorities and let them arrest you for _trespassing_."

"I'm not trespassing, per se," she replied calmly, before her entire demeanor changed. "It's not _my_ fault that my stupid machine isn't working right and brought me here!" Malcolm noticed that she was now flailing her arms about wildly. But he didn't have time to care. He needed her gone so he could create his next virus to ruin Sam's life.

"What are you babbling on about? Some _machine_ brought you here? Do you think I was born yesterday?"

"Yes, some machine brought me here: mine!" she yelled before tapping a dark object in the room twice.

Suddenly, the object lit up with a strange blue light and Malcolm took a step back. What was this; some sort of wizardry or trickery? He then looked at her and was able to see her more closely. She was around his own age, with wavy light brown hair down to her shoulders. She was dressed in tight fitting blue jeans and a t-shirt with an image of a stunning Aurora Borealis. _Oh, get it together, Frink,_ he scolded himself. _She's still an unwanted guest hiding about. And we can't have that!_ "So? It's a generic phone booth with fancy lights. It explains _nothing_!" he scoffed, looking inside to get a better view. When he did, he could see that it wasn't just some generic phone booth. There were multiple switches and dials, a large screen bigger (and flatter) than his parents' television, a keyboard, a stool bolted into the floor…it defied all logic. She had to be a witch! Or perhaps she was strange enough to be telling the truth.

"What's the date today, Kimo—Karl—Kal—whatever your name is?" she asked, peering around Malcolm at Kilokahn. Great, Malcolm thought, both fear and anger resonating within his being, she was the reason Kilokahn was already online when I came in.

"It's October fourteen," Malcolm answered before Kilokahn could.

"I know that, O Dark and Sullen One; I mean the year."

"Nineteen ninety-five, _okay_?"

She placed the palm of her hand on her forehead dramatically and groaned. "I didn't finish typing the year before it brought me here. I wanted to go back to October fourteenth, nineteen ninety nine! There was an Eiffel 65 concert in London that night and I wasn't able to go back then. Unfortunately, I'm still cursed with horrible luck and I have to deal with you and your insane role-playing friend until I can get my machine fixed."

Now, it was Malcolm's turn to smack his forehead. "Well, how long will _that_ take?"

"Given your limited technology and your unhelpful disposition, up to a week at most. In the meantime, I can't just hide out in here. My skin is screaming for sunlight. Or _any_ light, for that matter. What school do you go to?"

"North Valley High," he replied through gritted teeth. "Why do you want to know?"

She straightened up and smiled just before her time machine lights went dark again. "You are looking at Lydia Henderson, your newest classmate!"

"Oh for joy, for joy," Malcolm feigned excitement before sneering at her again. " _Now get out of my room!_ "

He watched as she turned to leave but shined a small flashlight around the room slowly. "Enjoy your cosplay or whatever, Malcolm Frink," she responded with a teasing tone, the beam of light stopping on a notebook on his bed with his name on it. "And just for being so jolly, I'm telling people at school we're related."

Malcolm watched her as she left the room before letting out a long, frustrated scream. He almost wished he was back at school, having to deal with Sam Collins and his hair-brained friends. This girl was going to send him straight to the funny farm!


	2. Moss on the North Side

**SIDE NOTE: I had to make up a last name for Tanker since Wikipedia didn't list one.**

Sam Collins was sitting at his usual table in the cafeteria, his friends Sydney Forrester, Tanker Ellis, and Amp Ere seated around him. The bell for first period hadn't rang yet, so there was still time to socialize. He was still upset about yesterday's incident with Malcolm. He had to pay for all those broken candy bars with his own money. He should've made Malcolm pay for them, but that was like asking a brick wall to start a conversation; it would've led to nowhere fast.

"Oh; speaking of the Frink monster, there he is now," Tanker nodded in the direction of the entryway.

"He's got someone _with_ him!" Sydney observed, unable to mask her surprise.

"Well, let's go say hello. Hopefully she'll be friendlier than Malcolm," Sam got up from the chair, his friends following suit.

"Hi there," Sam began. "I'm Sam, and these are my friends Syd, Tank, and Amp."

"Well, that's my cue," Malcolm muttered distastefully, but the new girl grabbed his long black sleeve and pulled him back beside her.

"I'm Lydia, Malcolm's cousin," she replied with a smile.

"That's second cousin, twice removed," Malcolm 'corrected'.

"Yeah," Lydia nodded. "Our family tree is just all messed up. Branches are twisted and broken, there's even moss growing on the north side. Nice to meet you all."

"I love your midwestern accent. Where exactly are you from?" Sydney asked.

"Brooklyn," Lydia replied and Sam noticed Malcolm trying—unsuccessfully—to leave again.

"I knew it!" Amp cried out triumphantly, causing everyone to look at him.

"You're from _Brooklyn_? What happened to your Brooklyn accent?" Syd pressed.

"I used to have it. Then I had my tonsils out and when I woke up, I spoke like this."

Amp nodded his head. "I know exactly what you mean. I once had my tongue stuck in a soda bottle. After the doctors got it out, I talked like a pirate for three _weeks_!"

Sam laughed nervously. "Well, it was nice meeting you, Lydia. See you around!"

As he walked away, he shook his head. How could someone as nice as Lydia be even _remotely_ related to Malcolm? But it sure was funny to watch Malcolm squirm as he tried to get away. That was worth almost every cent he had to pay for those chocolate bars.

* * *

Malcolm was humiliated. And mortified. And angry. She forced him to just _stand_ there, looking foolish as she befriended his sworn enemy and his band of goons. Why wouldn't she just leave him alone? And to think Kilokahn's "grand idea" last night was to send a mega virus monster into her time machine to destroy it. Why on Earth would he want to prolong her visit when he was counting the mere seconds before she was able to leave? She teased him about his all black wardrobe and forced him to eat something she called spaghetti tacos, which actually wasn't too terrible. But she was like a pimple that he wanted to pop her out of existence for good. As he sat at his usual table, he silently thanked the stars and moon that she had disappeared to go mingle or whatever she wanted. Finally, he was alone to draw the next virus that Kilokahn would bring to life.

"Hey, Frinkazoid! Whatcha drawing; a pretty picture for your mommy?" an all too familiar yet nauseating voice joked from behind. None other than Larry Patterson, captain of the soccer team and alpha bully.

"No, Patterson, I'm writing out your next grammar lesson since the last few years didn't seem to take."

Larry brushed his blond locks out of his eyes and bristled. "You better watch yourself, Frink-a-Dink. I'll mess you up _real_ good!"

"Oh, come now, Larry," Malcolm drawled, eyeing Mrs. Starkey, the lunch lady out of the corner of his eye. "We both know you can't afford to lose that scholarship to Clown University."

"That's it; you're _toast_ , Frink!" Larry yelled, his fist rared back to punch him.

Malcolm, realizing he had gone too far, closed his eyes and waited for the powerful blow. But instead, the next noise he heard was Larry crying out in pain. _Thank you, Mrs. Starkey_ , he thought, opening his eyes. But it wasn't her. It was—

"I'd think twice about punching my cousin, there, Larry Boy," Lydia growled, having grabbed Larry's wrist and twisting it uncomfortably behind his back. "Now, tell Malcolm you're sorry and get out of here!"

Malcolm was taking great pleasure in seeing Larry in pain. He just hated it was her that was providing said pain.

"No! He's a punk who needs to be taught…a lesson!" Larry grunted, but Lydia twisted even harder. " _Aaah_!"

"I said say your sorry, or I'll personally introduce your fingers to Mrs. Starkey's _salad shooter_!"

"Okay! I'm…sorry, Malcolm!" Larry squeaked.

Lydia instantly let go and Larry ran off in tears. "And if I catch you again, you'll be kicking the soccer ball with your _nose_!"

"Hey!" Mrs. Starkey's voice called out. "Ya got spunk, kiddo. I like that."

"Thanks," Lydia smiled back before turning her attention to Malcolm. "Are you okay?"

Malcolm shot up from his seat. "I was handling things just fine before you showed up; now do me a favor and _leave me alone_!" he shouted, not caring that everyone heard him before he stormed off.

"Yeah, you were really handling it when his fist was inches from your nose!" she called after him.

The bell rang and Malcolm ran to his locker to get his books for first class. As annoyed as he was by her arrival, he hated to admit that she did in fact save his face from being literally smashed in. _But why did she do it? Why did she help me?_

* * *

Lydia had just taken her seat in math class when she felt someone tap her on the shoulder. She turned around to find Tanker and smiled thinly.

"Are you really related to Malcolm Frink?" he asked.

"Yep. Seems so. Why?"

"He's so…you know…rude and hateful and you're so…you know…not. If I were you, I would've let Patterson hit him. He's had it coming for a while, now."

"He might have deserved it, but I would have felt bad for not doing anything. I guess I'm just wired differently," she replied before turning around, letting him know she no longer wanted to talk to him about it. As much as Malcolm pushed her proverbial buttons, there was something about him that made her glad she was there to help him. If anybody needed someone to look out for them, it was Malcolm Frink. Wherever his computer friend lived, she knew he needed someone close by to keep him in check. If he didn't drive her completely _insane_ , first.


	3. Desperate and Pitiful

"So, Meat-Thing; do you have a new virus that I may bring to life, or are you still preoccupied with the Lydia Meat-Thing?"

" _Can_ it, bits for brains! It's not for lack of trying, but I don't exactly have the privacy anymore since she arrived," Malcolm snapped back, hating that Kilokahn brought up the obvious. He was preoccupied with her presence. And he _hated_ admitting it, even to himself.

Suddenly, he got a splendid idea and he leaned back in his chair, steepled his fingers and smiled. "You know, she never _did_ tell me what year she's from. Or what all her machine can do. Perhaps if I have a little peek, I can enjoy a little time travel of my very _own_."

"But I thought she informed you that it wasn't fully operational," Kilokahn reminded him.

"Functional, schmunctional. I could probably figure out what's wrong with my _eyes_ closed," Malcolm scoffed, knowing full well he was lying, but not caring. He immediately stood up and walked over to the darkened box. "Now, I believe she tapped it twice to turn it on," he recalled, gently doing so. He smiled even wider when the lights came on, illuminating the room. He stared through the glass and squinted his eyes to see. "It looks like one of the dials is pointing to the year two thousand seventeen."

"So the Lydia meat-thing really _is_ from the future!" Kilokahn announced.

"Well, let's just have a little look inside," Malcolm reached out to touch the handle on the door.

Suddenly, a loud wailing alarm rang out and Malcolm jumped back, covering his ears. "Make it stop, Kilokahn; make the wretched thing _stop_!" he screamed.

"I cannot do that!" Kilokahn responded, but his voice was almost completely drowned out by the sound.

"What do you think you're doing?" Lydia yelled, walking into the room and literally using a keychain device to turn the alarm off. "It only responds to _my_ touch; now keep your grubby mitts off!"

Malcolm instantly sat down, still hearing the atrocious noise reverberating in his brain. "Ohh," he muttered, massaging his temples.

"Serves both of you right," Lydia huffed.

Malcolm looked over at her and noticed that she was wearing maroon satin pajamas and he opened his mouth to make fun of her, but stopped when he saw the look on her face.

Without a word, she opened her time machine door and gestured with her hands to welcome him in. "Now. If you wanted to take a gander around, all you had to do was ask."

Malcolm looked at Kilokahn and shrugged before getting up and going inside. He could feel himself practically drooling over all of the electronics, dials, switches, and blinking lights. It was nothing he'd ever _seen_ before. Glancing to his left, he noticed a small sliding door and he looked at her before touching it, fearing that God awful noise again. When she nodded her approval, he slid it only to reveal a small closet with some clothes and shoes. "This is incredible! And you _built_ this?"

"Both of my parents are inventors, so it runs in the family," she nodded. "By the way, where are your parents?"

"Vacationing in Bora Bora for two weeks," he stated, still taking in every light and hidden compartment. He opened the closet once more, mostly to make sure he didn't imagine it.

"I always keep extra clothes in here in case either I need to look more era-appropriate or," she suddenly looked downward at her shoes, "in case I were to get stuck somewhere for a while. I just really want to go home."

Malcolm felt bad for her and immediately closed her closet and stepped out of the time machine. Not knowing what else to say or do, he shrugged simply and looked at her. "Well, I'll let you go downstairs to sleep."

"Yeah. Thanks for letting me crash on your couch. Goodnight, Malcolm. Goodnight, Kilokahn," she replied just as awkwardly before leaving.

As he watched her go, he felt a twinge of an emotion that could only be described as empathy. If anyone knew how she felt, it was him. He always felt out of place, surrounded by people he thought either weaker than himself or just plain stupid. He longed to feel accepted by people, but yet, he knew he would never feel anything more than an outsider, looking in on the rest of the world.

"I'm logging off for the night, Kilokahn," he said as he went back to his computer.

"But you still have not given me a virus to bring to life! I _want_ my _virus_!" shouted the ruler of the digital world angrily.

"Well, you'll have to wait until tomorrow, because I'm going to bed. Now take it or leave it, because either way, I am logging off!" With that, Malcolm switched off his computer and Kilokhan disappeared.

 _Maybe after Lydia goes home, my life will return back to normal. I hate having so many thoughts and emotions running through my brain. It hurts!_ he thought to himself as he got ready for a night of restless sleep.

* * *

 _Who knew school in the nineties could be so much easier than school in two thousand seventeen?_ Lydia thought happily as she finished her lunch and returned the tray to Mrs. Starkey, who was singing "Bad to the Bone" as if no one could hear her. She was just about to head to her locker when a conversation caught her ears. Peeking around the corner, she could see Malcolm, cornering the same girl he had several drawings of: Sam's girlfriend, Jennifer.

"Oh, come on, Jennifer; I really could use your help!" he was pleading.

"No, Malcolm. I already told you I have a date with Sam tonight. And besides, you're a whiz in math class."

 _Just let the girl go, Malcolm,_ Lydia thought. _You're sounding desperate and pitiful._

"Well, yes, _usually_ I have no trouble, but today's lesson has me _completely_ stumped. I'll tell you what; if you agree to come over to my house and help me for just a little while, I'll show you a real, working ti—"

"Typewriter!" Lydia shouted, desperate to say anything to overpower Malcolm's next word. She walked over to them quickly. "Malcolm has a working _typewriter_ with all the bells and whistles. Right, Malcolm?" she asked through gritted teeth.

Jennifer smiled and rolled her eyes. "Malcolm; I've seen a typewriter before. Now, I'm sorry, but I really have to go," she quickly dashed away before another word could be said.

Lydia was fuming. He was really willing to sell her out for a _tutoring_ lesson? Letting her anger do the talking, she grabbed his arm and literally pulled him out of the cafeteria and into the hallway. "I can't believe you," she hissed. "You can't just go around telling people about my _time machine_!"

"It would have been worth it to see the look on Sam Collins' face knowing that she was with me. Besides, I wouldn't have told her it was _yours_ ," he defended.

Lydia literally growled. "You are lucky that I almost have it fixed! I can't wait to go back home and away from you! You are such an insensitive, selfish _jerk_!"

Malcolm was too busy rustling through his locker to listen to her, however. "Oh, no! I must've left my history paper at home! What am I going to do _now_?"

 _Just do it quickly and walk away,_ she told herself as she opened her backpack and pulled out a small binder. "Here!" she cried, shoving his missing binder—with his report—against his chest before storming away angrily, leaving him shocked and slightly winded from the impact.

* * *

Sam was at his locker and watched the incident out of the corner of his eye. Malcolm couldn't be nice or polite to anyone; not even his own family. He often wondered if his parents ran away from home to get away from their own son. He looked at Sydney and furrowed his brow. "That does it. Hey, Frink!"

"What do you want _now_ , Collins? Oh, let me guess; world peace?" Malcolm drawled, his hand on his bruised chest.

"Why can't you just be nice for once? Lydia's your cousin and you're as mean to her as you are to the rest of us."

"Well, we can't all be filled with sunshine and roses like _you_ ," he replied, his voice dripping with disdain.

Sydney moved in closer before Sam could continue. "Look, Lydia is really trying to help you. Not to mention the fact that she's constantly defending you; always talking about what a great artist you are, and how you make her laugh—"

"She—she says all _that_?" he cut her off, genuinely taken aback

Sam nodded. "Yeah. So would it kill you to be a little _nicer_ to her? I don't know what happened, but she seemed pretty upset." He then turned to Sydney. "Come on, Syd. Let's get to class."

As Sam walked away, he allowed himself to look back at Malcolm. He figured Fink would be gone, but surprisingly, he was still standing in the middle of the hallway, staring at his notebook. He looked both perplexed and dumbfounded. _Maybe one day, somebody will blast through those walls he always has up and he'll realize what he's been missing out on,_ he thought to himself. _But that is highly unlikely. Malcolm Frink has been and always will be a miserable person._


	4. What's That Sound

As soon as the last class had ended for the day, Lydia shoved all her books in her locker and slammed the door shut. All she wanted to do was finish fixing her machine and forget this place and time ever existed. At least after she left, if Malcolm wanted to tell everyone within hearing distance about her time machine, no one would believe him. He would have no proof. And she would be long gone, never to be seen or heard from again. The thought would have made her smile, but she was too mentally drained to even accomplish that small a task at the moment.

"Rough day?" a voice asked from behind her, and she jumped slightly before turning around. It was Yoli Pratchert, daughter of Principal Pratchert. Lydia _did_ manage a smile for her sake.

"You can say _that_ again. I just want go back to my home in Brooklyn," she sighed. "I'm feeling more than a little homesick."

Yoli gave her a sympathetic smile. "When are your parents getting back from their cruise?"

 _The cruise lie held up. Good,_ Lydia thought. "Unless there are complications, hopefully within the next few days."

"Well, we'll miss you here, but I'm glad you'll be back home and away from your rotten to the core cousin," Yoli told her, rolling her eyes at the last part.

Lydia giggled. Was there no one except his computer friend that could tolerate him? At least she didn't feel alone in that manner. Just when she thought Malcolm wasn't all that bad, he proved her wrong by planning on selling her out on a fake study date.

"Oh, speak of the devil," Yoli muttered as Malcolm exited his class in front of them, not paying attention in the slightest. Behind him were Sam, Tanker, and Amp, who not only noticed Lydia and Yoli, but walked along beside them.

"So, your day get any better, Lydia?" Sam asked, genuine concern on his boyish face.

"It's been a struggle, but yeah. It feels good to know school is out for the day, though."

"Malcolm is such a _sleazeball_ ," Tanker said, loud enough for him to hear. "He can't even apologize for upsetting you earlier."

At that, Malcolm stopped and turned around abruptly, almost causing Amp to run right into him. "Oh, I'm sorry, Tanker, but I didn't realize this was any of your _business_ ," he scowled before turning back around to walk down the front steps of the school.

"Ah, I oughta _punch_ you, Frink!"

Lydia rolled her eyes as Malcolm continued walking down the steps and out into the street to cross. _He is so getting the silent treatment until I go home!_

Suddenly, Amp looked up and licked his index finger before putting it up in the air. "What's that sound?" he asked.

Lydia giggled but stopped when she heard it, too. And then she saw it! A car had just turned the corner way too sharply, hit the curb, and was now heading directly into the path of—

" _Malcolm_!" Lydia screamed.

* * *

Malcolm heard Lydia scream his name just seconds after he saw the car careening down the road towards him at a high rate of speed. This was it. _Goodbye, cruel world,_ he thought before he felt himself flying in mid-air. But it wasn't the _car_ that shoved him; it was—

"Lydia!" he heard Tanker and Sam cry out in unison, as a crowd gathered on the grass across the street. He looked up at the crowd around him, both concern and relief on their faces.

"What h- _happened_?" Malcolm managed to ask, still lying on the ground, dazed.

"Lydia pushed you out of the path of that _car_!" Amp cried out and Malcolm noticed he looked as if he were about to cry.

 _Lydia?_ He looked next to him to find her, sitting up and nodding to several people asking her if she was okay before helping her to stand.

"Malcolm, are you alright?" Sam asked, helping him sit up.

"I think so. The last thing I remember was hearing my name," he responded, still feeling confused and slightly sore in his ribs.

Lydia looked down at him and gave him a lopsided smile. "That was me before I rammed you out the way like a bull." He shakily took her extended hand and allowed her to help him stand.

"Alright; show's over," Malcolm announced, straightening his shirt and wiping off his pants, although his voice didn't sound quite as irritated as he planned.

As everyone slowly left, still talking about what had just happened, Malcolm felt his legs begin to shake like Jello. Did she really just save his life? Did she really risk her own..for _his_? Why?

He was snapped back into a bit of reality, however, when Lydia put her arm around his shoulders. "Come on, Sparky. I'll drive us home while you get your sea legs back. You can pay me back later when the reality of what just happened hits _me_."

Malcolm numbly nodded and fished his car keys from his pocket. He just couldn't make sense of it. She was furious at him, and for good reason. She could have just let the car plow into him and be done with his existence. But she didn't. She pushed him out of the way just in the nick of time and now she was being _supportive_ instead of condescending or worse, _laughing_ at him. _Well, I may not understand much right now, but I know what I have to do. As soon as I get home and find my 'sea legs', as she calls it, I have to take matters into my own hands. And Kilokahn is going to help me do it._

* * *

Two hours later, he entered his dark bedroom and closed the door tight, locking it. She was downstairs, working on homework and wouldn't be bothering him for at least a little while. It was just enough time.

"Kilokahn, ruler of the digital world, I _call_ you!"

Instantly, Kilokahn appeared on screen, thick smoke behind him. "I hope you have a virus for me, Meat-Thing. I am growing irritated of you wasting my time."

"Oh, I do. I _do_ have a virus for you; a perfectly _good_ virus. Do you remember your idea a few days ago? The one in which we send a virus into Lydia's time machine?"

"You mean the one you so rudely rejected?"

Malcolm sighed. "Yes, _that_ one. Well, I've decided to reconsider."

Kilokahn made a grandiose gesture with his right arm. "Why the sudden change of tune, Malcolm Meat-Thing?"

Malcolm leaned back in his chair and prayed that Kilokahn would believe the huge lie he was about to spin. "Well, she wants to go home. That would make her _so_ happy. But I don't want her to be happy; I want her to be _miserable_! So send my Okrun virus directly into her time machine and _destroy_ it!"

"I like it," Kilokahn responded as the drawing of Malcolm's virus appeared on the other screen via scanner. "However, given that her technology is years ahead of your measly software, I highly doubt that the Okrun virus alone will be enough to render her machine incapacitated."

Leaning forward, Malcolm glared at him and pounded his fist on the desk. "Then multiply my virus f _ive-fold_ , you dim-witted floppy disk! Just do whatever you _have_ to!"

Kilokahn pointed his finger at the other screen, shooting a laser beam to the virus, bringing it to life. Malcolm smiled ecstatically as the orange virus roared to life and four more identical viruses formed. _Sorry but not sorry, Lydia dear. I can't let you leave yet. I-I can't lose you._


	5. Get Over It

Lydia knew she still should have been angry at him, but she just _couldn't_ be. Not after he was nearly hit by a car. Not after he was so awkwardly quiet on the car ride home. Not after his quiet "thank you" when they got home. She could see how badly shaken and how genuinely surprised he was that she pushed him out of the way in the nick of time. Did he really expect her to just watch as he was killed right in front of her and the rest of the class? To be honest, though, she was surprised herself that she was able to react so quickly. _Thank God for adrenaline,_ she thought as she placed her book and binder inside her backpack. She just hoped Malcolm wouldn't have any more life-altering mishaps after today. Tomorrow, she would have Malcolm turn in her final assignment and she would be back to her house and her time. Just the thought of going home made her smile. She missed two thousand seventeen so much. She was sure her Facebook friends were going _crazy_ wondering where she had been. Who knew she could stay off social media for a week and survive? Laughing, she made her way upstairs and was just about to knock on Malcolm's door when she heard him tell her to come in.

"How did you know I was here?" she asked, surprised that he wasn't at his computer, but sitting on his bed with the side table lamp on.

"I heard you laughing. What was so funny?"

"I was thinking about computers in my time. You don't know it yet, but with the new millennium will come all kinds of social media and ways to connect with the world. There'll be Facebook, Twitter, Instagram and even sites like," she paused to shudder before continuing, " _Tinder_."

Malcolm looked up at her, eyebrow raised in question. "What is Tinder?"

"A very scary site. You'll find out when you're older," she replied before turning to her time machine. "But now to finish working on my baby. Tomorrow, I'll be going back. I can't believe it."

"I can hardly believe it _myself_ ," Malcolm looked at his fingernails and Lydia took it to mean he was trying not to look at her, instead.

"Whatever will you do without me to harass?" she giggled, tapping her machine twice to turn it on. Her facial expression instantly changed when the lights didn't come on. She tapped it again, but to no avail. "What is wrong? Why isn't it _working_?"

Malcolm stood up and stretched. "I thought you said you practically had it _fixed_!"

"I-I _did_! I don't understand what's wrong!" Lydia felt herself panicking as she opened the door and looked inside. She pressed the startup and the reboot buttons, but nothing. "No! No; it can't be!" She flipped countless dials and pressed numerous buttons, but the machine refused to show any signs of life.

"Well, it looks more like a worthless hunk of junk right now. I guess that means you won't be going home tomorrow?" Malcolm asked, still looking everywhere but in her direction.

Lydia slumped to the floor in defeat, her back against the machine and pulled her knees up under her chin. "I guess not," she whispered, fighting back tears. _What went wrong? Yesterday, it was ninety-five percent operational and now…it's not even powering up. I really thought I would be home this time tomorrow, but now it looks as if I might never go home again!_

* * *

 _She'll get over it,_ Malcolm had thought to himself before he climbed into his bed. He could barely contain his excitement, however, at the thought that his virus clones did the trick and made her time machine completely powerless. Sure, he felt bad for her after she had gotten her hopes so high in going home, but surely by the next morning, she would come to terms with it and all would be perfectly fine.

The problem _now_ was it was morning, and Lydia seemed anything but fine. She refused to eat breakfast and barely spoke more than three sentences to him on the way to school. He noticed there were dark circles under her eyes which indicated she hadn't slept and her hair was completely disheveled. As they got out of his car, he paused before crossing the street, both out of fear of runaway vehicles and in hopes that she would say something. _Anything_. Instead, she looked both ways and crossed the street, not even waiting for him.

"Say, I was thinking that maybe we could go to the art gallery after school. Doesn't that sound like _fun_?" Malcolm asked her, trying to sound enthusiastic.

"Sure. Whatever," she replied in a monotone as they walked in the school and headed to the cafeteria.

As soon as they arrived, Malcolm pulled her to where Mrs. Starkey's counter was. "How about we get you some cereal since you didn't eat before we left?" he suggested.

"Malcolm, I'm really not hungry," she answered, still very little emotion in her voice.

Mrs. Starkey looked up and jumped when she saw Lydia. "Great gobs of goose livers, girl; what in the heck happened to _you_? Science experiment go wrong?"

Lydia opened her mouth to answer but Malcolm put his arm around her and beat her to the punch. "Lydia's just not feeling well, that's all. I'm sure she'll feel better after she drinks some of your famous grape juice. Isn't that right, Lydia dear?"

Mrs. Starkey looked at Malcolm. "Watch it, Frink. The only brown nosing I like is the kind found in my _gravy_."

Malcolm knew he was laying it on a little thick, but he was hoping his faux sweetness would rub off on Lydia. Or at least get her to ask him what had gotten into him. Anything to bring life back into the one person who didn't make him want to _puke_.

"I'll just have water," Lydia responded, her voice barely above a whisper.

"One water, one dollar," Mrs. Starkey placed a bottle of spring water on the counter and waited as Malcolm handed her the money.

"Lydia! What _happened_? You look…well—," Sydney began as she, Sam, Tanker, and Amp approached them.

"Okay, Frink; what'd you do to her?" Tanker interrupted.

"What on Earth makes you think _I_ did anything to her, _Canker_?"

"Because I know _you_ , that's why!"

Lydia gave an awkward look at both of them. "Girls, girls; you're both pretty," she joked, sounding a little more like herself. "I'll be okay…it's just…my parents'…they're not coming back for a while. The ship is…stranded at sea."

"Oh, you poor thing!" Sydney cried out, taking her arm and leading her away from Malcolm. "Come sit with us!"

"Hey, Malcolm; you're welcome to sit with us, too," Sam offered.

"I'd rather be burned at the _stake_!" Malcolm retorted before turning on his heel to sit at a table by himself at the far corner. _I couldn't snap her out of it, Collins; what makes you and your little band of gypsies think you can do better?_ he thought bitterly. There had to be some way to bring the old Lydia back, but _what_?

Suddenly, Malcolm had an ingenious idea. He had spent so much time drawing Jennifer Doyle, but now he felt inspired to draw the _new_ woman in his life. _And once I give her my drawing, she'll realize that she and I belong together and she'll forget all about her futuristic life!_

* * *

"So, did your parents give you any idea when they might be back?" Tanker asked as they were seated.

Lydia shook her head and Sam noticed she was blinking back tears. _She must be really homesick_. Instantly, his heart went out for her. Usually, she was so bubbly and upbeat, but now she looked so sad; not to mention only a couple of steps away from looking like a hobo.

"Well, maybe they'll come back in a few days. I'm sure everything will work out all right, right guys?" Sam asked and smiled when his friends all nodded their heads enthusiastically.

"You wanna see my potato chip collection? One of them looks exactly like Johnny Depp's face!" Amp pulled out his wallet and a long accordion holder of photos fell out and reached the floor.

"Maybe some other time, Amp," Lydia replied, stifling a giggle.

Sam rolled his eyes, but was glad at least Amp got her to laugh. That was progress, albeit small.

"Hey," Sam asked suddenly, hit with inspiration. "Did you know the four of us have a band?"

Lydia shook her head. "I didn't. What's the band's name?"

Sam puffed out his chest proudly. "Team Samurai. Listen, Jennifer and I were supposed to study after school, but she promised her grandma she'd take her to see _Spamalot on Ice_. If you're not busy, you can come to my house and listen to us play. If you want to, that is."

"Really?" Lydia asked, the sparkle starting to show in her eyes again.

"Sure! We'd love to have you listen to us rock!" Tanker agreed.

"I think music is just what I need to get my mind off of…everything."

Amp grinned. "Well, boy are _you_ in luck; that's exactly what we play!"

Sam gave an internal fist pump as Lydia threw her head back and laughed. "Oh, Amp; you're so funny," she told him, causing Amp to turn a bright shade of crimson.

Suddenly, she grimaced again. "Wait; I kinda told Malcolm I'd go to the art gallery after school. I mean, it's more _his_ thing, but I—"

"Just tell him you'll go with him after school tomorrow," Sam advised.

Lydia nodded and she turned around to a face Malcolm, who was busily doodling in his sketch pad. "Hey, Cousin?"

Malcolm looked up and smiled. Sam noticed it was one of the few times he'd ever seen Malcolm genuinely smile. "Lydia! I was just getting ready to give you something I drew. Just for you," he began, making a motion to begin tearing a sheet from his sketch pad.

"That's great," Lydia interrupted with a casual wave of her hand, "but I wanted to ask if it was okay to take a rain check on the art gallery. Sam asked me to listen to his band after school."

"But-but," Malcolm stuttered, "you promised to go with _me_ after school!"

Sam winced as Lydia shook her head. "I never promised _exactly_ ; I was just agreeing because you were trying to cheer me up. But we can go to the art gallery after school tomorrow and that _is_ a promise."

"Ohhh, just _forget_ it!" Malcolm cried out angrily before storming out of the cafeteria.

Sam scratched his head. Maybe he was mistaken, but it looked as if Malcolm had been drawing a very flattering picture of _her_. Not that he really wanted to know, but surely Malcolm Frink wasn't developing a crush on his own _cousin_!


	6. Such A Dope

**SIDE NOTE: Short chapter, I know. Oh and I am still waiting for someone—anyone—to review my story. Trying to keep this story as true to the show as possible, but if I make it to a sequel, it will be much different.**

As soon as Malcom got home, he stormed into his bedroom and jerked one of his virus monster drawings from the wall. _I'll fix Sam Collins for good! First he steals Jennifer and now he's trying to get his claws into Lydia. Well, I won't let you steal another girlfriend away from me. You will rue the day you were even conceived!_ His anger continued to boil over as he scanned the drawing onto the smaller monitor and sat down. "Kilokahn, OverLord of the digital world, I _call_ you!"

Kilokahn appeared on screen and adjusted his cape. "You seem rather…irritated. I hope that means what I think it means; you have another virus for me."

"I do. We're officially back in business. I'm sending you my Zyth virus to send into the school's P.A. system. Tomorrow, when my voice come over the loudspeaker, it will force everyone to do whatever I _command_ them to!"

"Another tedious duty. I am tired of you squandering my power for your little revenge ploys. When are you going to _really_ cause some destruction?"

"When I'm good and _ready_ , you digital nincompoop! Now do as I say, Kilokahn!"

"Fine," Kilokahn snarled, sending his beam to the next screen to bring Zyth to life.

Malcolm crossed his arms over his chest and leaned back in his chair. _Tomorrow, I'll have Jennifer dump Sam, I'll make sure Lydia is mine forever, and I'll make Sam Collins jump from the rooftop of the school! No one messes with Malcolm Frink and lives to tell about it,_ he thought before throwing back his head and laughing maniacally. He couldn't wait until tomorrow morning.

* * *

Sam and his friends had just finished setting up their instruments in his basement when the phone rang.

"Oh no. I hope that's not Lydia calling to cancel. I was really hoping we could lift her spirits. Tank, can you get that?"

"Sure thing," Tanker nodded, picking up the phone. A few seconds later, he covered the mouthpiece with his hand. "It's Yoli."

Sam sighed with relief. He was sure Malcolm was probably trying to make Lydia feel guilty for not doing what he wanted to do, anyway.

A few seconds later, Tanker hung up and grimaced. "Guys, we might have a problem. Yoli said her dad was staying late after school and the P.A. system started acting weird. He went to check it out and he got zapped by a jolt of electricity. Yoli had to come back to school and drive Principal Pratchert home. She said she called here because she knew Jennifer wasn't available but she wanted to tell someone."

Sydney ran over to the computer and punched a few buttons. As Sam looked over her shoulder, he didn't hear Amp let Lydia in.

"Hey, guys," she said, causing Sam and Sydney to jump.

Sam spun around. "Oh, hi, Lydia. We didn't hear you come in." He quickly led her to a seat away from the computer. "Can you sit right here for a second with Amp?"

"Sure, but what the heck _is_ that thing?" she said, pointing to a virus onscreen. The same virus that was wreaking havoc with the P.A. system. "It kinda looks familiar."

Sam quickly ran through his mind to think of something, but thankfully, Sydney beat him to it. "It's just an old computer game. No big deal."

Lydia nodded and muttered something to Amp about kids these days and their strange computer friends. Sam hated to do it, but he knew he needed to get rid of Lydia so he could turn into Servo and defeat the virus.

"Hey, Lydia; I hope you won't be too mad at us, but, see, Tanker forgot to tell us about this history paper that's due tomorrow and we really gotta help him out. I know you told Malcolm you'd take a rain check on the art gallery, but can you maybe take a rain check on listening to us play?"

"Yeah, Lyds; I'm such a dope. Can you ever forgive me?" Tanker asked, looking like a guilty puppy dog.

Lydia got up slowly. "Um, sure. Maybe I'll just take a walk or something. Good luck with your paper." She looked down at Amp. "I came, I saw, and now I'm leaving."

"We're really sorry. We'll make it up to you, we promise," Sam vowed as he watched her start to climb the stairs. A few seconds later, he turned to Amp. "Is she gone?"

"She came, she saw, and she's gone," he nodded as he rushed closer to the computer.

* * *

But Lydia _wasn't_ gone. She knew she had seen that monster somewhere before, but she couldn't put her finger on it. But she knew without a doubt that they wanted her gone for a reason. Turning back around, she peeked around the corner of the stairs and saw them staring at the familiar image on screen. _History paper my foot!_

"Sam, you gotta get rid of this virus," Sydney said.

Sam nodded. "I know. This virus has Kilokahn's name written all over it."

Lydia covered her mouth before an audible gasp escaped her throat. _Kilokahn? But that's Malcolm's role-playing friend, isn't it? Speaking of Malcolm, that monster is one of his drawings! I knew I recognized it from somewhere. But if that monster drawing is a virus, and Kilokahn isn't just a role-playing weirdo, what's going on?_

"Let's get you in there as Servo so you can fix the school's P.A. system before tomorrow," she heard Tanker say.

She watched as Sam picked up his blue guitar, put it around his neck, and turned to Sydney. "You ready, Syd?"

"Ready when you are, Sam."

"Okay," Sam said before getting ready to play a chord. "Let's _samurize_ , guys!" he cried, striking the power chord and instantly getting zapped into the computer.

Lydia wasn't sure if she should stay or run. This couldn't be happening! Everything she thought she knew was a _lie_! Malcolm wasn't just some harmless artist who had odd taste in friends. He was working with something _evil_ to create virus that destroyed electronic equipment! _Just like my—_

She couldn't finish the thought, however as a wave of nausea, panic, and rage hit her simultaneously and she ran down Sam's driveway like a woman on a mission. A mission to _murder_ Malcolm Frink.


	7. I Want the Truth

As she ran through the front door, Lydia felt both enraged and frightened at everything she had both learned and suspected. _Please let this just be a bad dream or something,_ she pleaded as she ran up the stairs to Malcolm's room. But when she saw him sitting at his computer, lights out, she felt her rage take control. Throwing his door wide open, she instantly grabbed his chair with him still in it and spun it around. "Who or what is Kilokahn, Malcolm?"

"What happened to your private concert at Collins' house? Let me guess; it sounded like a bunch of dying _cats_ ," he replied, unfazed by her in the slightest.

" _Kilokahn_ , Malcolm! Tell me who _Kilokahn_ is!" she was yelling now, standing over him.

Malcolm looked up at her and swallowed loudly. "Why do you want to know about Kilokahn?"

Lydia knew why he was dodging the question and it only made her angrier. Grabbing the front of his shirt, she pulled him to a standing position. " _Answer the question_!"

"Alright, alright; don't get pushy. Kilokahn claims to be the master of the digital world. He was looking for my help about a year ago. _Why_?"

Lydia pulled one of his drawings off the wall. "And these drawings aren't just monsters, but viruses Kilokahn uses to cause electronic devices to malfunction?"

She could tell Malcolm wanted to stall, but she made sure her facial expression and body language warned him not to. She knew the truth now, but she still needed to hear it from him.

"Yes! Kilokahn uses my drawings to bring these mega virus monsters to life because he can't create his own! Why are you suddenly asking all of these questions?"

"So I guess I can assume that you and Kilokahn created a virus to destroy my time machine, then? You _purposefully_ wrecked my only way home?"

Malcolm laughed nervously. "Now what on Earth would make you think _I_ did that? You were working on fixing it, _supposedly_."

Still holding him by the front of his shirt, she slammed him up against the wall. She knew she needed to control her anger, but she was too far gone now. "Don't lie to me, Malcolm! I want the _truth_! Did you or didn't you?"

"Okay, okay! I-I _did_ it. I told Kilokahn to bring multiple clones of one of my viruses to life and send it to your time machine, but I—"

Lydia let him go, tears filling her eyes. He said the one thing she hoped he wouldn't. He had betrayed her in the worst way possible. After all she had done for him…after all the things she said. "I _hate_ you, Malcolm Frink!" she spat, turning on her heel to leave.

"No; Lydia, wait—," he began, gently touching her hand, but she harshly shrugged it off and fled.

"I wish I'd never _met_ you!" she wailed before she slammed the front door.

* * *

 _I wish I'd never met you! I hate you, Malcolm Frink!_ The words kept reverberating over and over in his mind, each time sending a stabbing pain into his heart. He had no idea how long he had been driving, but the sky was beginning to turn into dusk. He had to find her. He had to make her understand. "But where could she _be_?" he wondered aloud. He had first begrudgingly driven to Sam's house, but neither he nor his friends had seen her since she left. He tried the art gallery, the park, the coffee shop at the mall, and even the local eateries, but no luck. Now he was driving towards the school, the last place in the world he figured she would be.

As he pulled into the parking lot, he breathed a huge sigh of relief when he saw her at one of the round cement tables by the front doors. While he was glad to see her, he also felt a knot in the pit of his stomach. What if she wouldn't listen to him? What if she treated him like most of his other peers? He wasn't sure if he could take it. "Come on, Frink; man up. You didn't come this far to lose her _now_ ," he told his reflection in the rear-view mirror before he got out and hurried across the street. Thankfully, she didn't see him, but his heart ached when he saw why: she had her head down atop her crossed arms on the table, sobbing. "Lydia, _there_ you are. I've been looking all over—" he began.

"Go…away," she hiccuped, not moving.

"No. Not until you hear me out," he replied, sitting across from her.

Lydia looked up and wiped her eyes. "What is there to hear? I've heard enough! In between what you and Kilokahn do and what you've done to me, I can't deal with it and I can't deal with _you_!" Lydia suddenly shot up from the table to walk away and Malcolm felt panic rise in his throat.

"I did it because I didn't want you to _leave_! I wanted—no, I _needed_ you here—and I still do."

Malcolm gulped as Lydia stopped dead in her tracks and slowly turned around. But he couldn't stop. The truth began pouring out of him like a fountain.

"At first I really _did_ want you gone. I thought you were just like all the other obnoxious morons I have to associate with every day at school. But you weren't; y-you _defended_ me to the others and you saved my _life_! You made me laugh and I felt, dare I say _good_ when I was with you. I couldn't bear the thought of you leaving. Not after I finally felt I had a…a friend; possibly more."

Lydia walked back over to the table and sat down again. "You destroyed my time machine because you didn't want to lose me? I thought you just wanted to make me miserable. You really seem to enjoy making others' lives miserable, so why _not_ me?"

"Because you're _different_! I want to make Sam's life miserable because he stole Jennifer from me and because he thinks he's so perfect with his perfect little life and perfect friends!"

Lydia rolled her eyes. "Malcolm, jealousy is _not_ a reason to befriend a computer program hellbent on world domination. He's using you and he'd throw you under the proverbial bus the first instant he sees an opportunity. Sam might have the girl you obviously like, but he's tried over and over to be nice to you. You just can't see past the end of your green and envious nose. And at first, you made it extremely difficult for me to defend you, but I knew there was more to you than just a bitter disposition. You are a brilliant computer programmer, an _amazing_ artist, and yes; you can even be a great person to be around."

Malcolm looked down so she wouldn't see him blush. "Look, I know you have to go back home; I _do_. I'm just not ready for you to. Besides, you still haven't taught me how to make those special tacos yet."

Lydia giggled. "I could never reveal my secret recipe." She then looked away from him, her face and demeanor changing. "The fact still remains that I have to go home soon and I still have viruses infecting my machine."

Suddenly, Malcolm had an idea. As much as he hated the Servo program, he knew it was the only thing that might defeat the viruses. He had to tell her. "I have an idea on how to fix it, but I need you to come back with me. I'll explain it on the way." He stood up, hand outstretched for her to take.

After a few seconds of hesitating, Lydia took his hand and stood up. Malcolm felt a warmth go through his body as she continued to hold his hand while they walked to his car. _I'm going to hate seeing her go, but this moment almost makes it worth doing the right thing._


	8. A Major Job To Do

The next day at school, Lydia carefully calculated just how Malcolm's "plan" to reach out to Servo would work. As he explained the Servo program to her on the way home the evening before, she realized that Malcolm nor Kilokahn knew who Servo was. Malcolm then told her that perhaps he could somehow send a message through the digital world that he needed Servo's help. Lydia, however, knowing Servo's identity, managed to distract Malcolm before he sent the message ("Can you run downstairs and grab me a grape soda? I'll send the message myself," were her exact words). As soon as he was downstairs, she printed the message and deleted it, tucking the printed sheet into her history book. Now that they were back in school, it was time for the plan to take its final action.

As soon as the bell rang, she hid around the corner by the lockers, waiting for Sam to appear. She saw Amp, Sydney, and Tanker first, but a few seconds later, Sam and Jennifer appeared. _Drat! I can't do it with Jennifer nearby!_ she realized, irritated.

"Jennifer!" Yoli called to her from behind and Lydia watched thankfully as Lydia kissed Sam goodbye before chasing after her best friend.

 _Finally._ Silently counting down the seconds, she waited until Sam was just about to turn the corner and—

"Oof!" she cried as she collided with Sam, books and papers falling to the floor.

"Aw, Lydia; I'm really sorry. I didn't know you were right there," Sam apologized, as they both bent down to pick up their respected items.

" _I'm_ the one who should be sorry. I wasn't watching where I was going," she responded as she quickly slid Malcolm's letter close to Sam's foot as she stood up abruptly. "Sorry again. See you after class!"

"Hey; you forgot something!" Sam called out to her, but Lydia made sure she was too far away to "hear" him.

 _Way to go, Henderson. A perfectly executed plan, if I do say so myself. Now let's just hope he can save my only chance of going home._

* * *

"Hey, Sam. What _took_ you so long?" Tanker asked as Sam entered their biology class. "You were right behind us. Did Jennifer hold you back?" he asked the last part with a sly grin.

"No. I ran into Lydia— _literally_. We were coming around the corner at the same time. Books and papers went flying. But she accidentally left behind a note that I think you guys will want to see."

Sydney put her hand on her hip. " _Sam_ , reading other people's private notes is a total invasion of their privacy."

"But this note isn't from her. It's from Malcolm."

" _Malcolm_?" Sydney, Tanker, and even Amp asked in unison.

"Malcolm is writing notes to his _cousin_?" Tanker asked, scratching his head.

Sam chuckled. "Not exactly. Malcolm is asking for help…from Servo." He fished the note from his pants pocket and showed it to them:

 _Dear Servo,_

 _My name is Malcolm Frink and as much as I hate to admit it, I need your help. This is going to sound crazy, but I have a friend who has a time machine with multiple viruses infecting it. I need you to go into the digital world and destroy those viruses so that she can go home in two thousand seventeen. Again, I know this sounds crazy, but I'm telling the truth. Please help as soon as you can._

 _Malcolm Frink_

"Has Malcolm completely flipped his lid?" Tanker asked. "A _time machine_?"

"You know, actually, it would explain a lot about Lydia. She comes here from out of nowhere, says she's Malcolm's cousin, even though she and Malcolm seem _nothing_ alike. She says her parents are on a cruise and left her here, but now her parents are stuck on the cruise ship for an undisclosed amount of _time_. When you think about it, it makes perfect sense!" Sydney reasoned.

"Wow. Lydia is really a time traveler from the future," Sam breathed. "Two thousand seventeen; that's twenty-two years away!"

"I could be her _dad_!" Amp exclaimed.

"Uh, Amp, no offense, but I can't really see Lydia being your daughter. Or you procreating with _anyone_ , for that matter."

"Well, guys," Sydney interrupted before Amp could reply. "It looks like Servo has a major job to do. Should we get to it?"

"But what about Biology?" Tanker asked.

"May I have your attention: Mrs. Retchford's biology class has been cancelled due to an incident involving formaldehyde. Class will resume again on Monday…we _hope_ ," Principal Pratchert announced over the P.A. system.

"Problem solved. Now let's head back to my house so we can destroy those viruses and get Lydia back home," Sam declared happily as they headed towards the front of the building.

* * *

Malcolm had to admit that it felt incredibly awkward to want Servo to defeat his viruses and save the day, but as soon as he saw the program on the monitor, he turned around. "Lydia, he came! Servo came to help."

Lydia ran into his room to watch the battle, armed herself with a large bowl of popcorn and two juice drinks.

Malcolm gave her a lopsided grin as he took his juice. "You are really _enjoying_ this, aren't you?"

"You bet! This is better than an MMA fight," she replied, tossing a handful of popcorn in her mouth.

"MMA? What on Earth is _that_?"

"It stands for Mixed Martial Arts and boy, it's a rush. Now let's watch," she turned back to the monitor and saw the mass number of viruses line up to fight Servo. "Malcolm, can Servo really do this?"

"Not without his friends. Oh, _look_ ; here comes his posse _now_."

He could have sworn he heard Lydia say something, but when he looked over at her, she instantly shoved more popcorn in her mouth.

For several minutes, they watched as Servo and his crew fought and destroyed the viruses, one by one. Malcolm tried to hide his laughter as Lydia was really getting into it, mimicking Servo's punches and jabs. He couldn't even be mad when Servo finally destroyed the last virus and she cheered, knocking the bowl up into the air, popcorn raining down on them both.

But the best part of it all was when she ran over to her time machine, tapped it twice, saw the familiar fluorescent lights fill the air, and promptly hugged him. A hug in which he soon returned after getting over the initial shock. He would miss her more than almost anything, but seeing her this happy made him feel warm and fuzzy all over. And for once, he enjoyed it. _I never thought I would enjoy seeing someone else happy and want that above my own happiness. I just wish I didn't have to say goodbye. That part is going to suck._


	9. Never Forget

**SIDE NOTE: Well, congrats on sticking with me until the last chapter. It's long, I know, but there was a lot to wrap up and I didn't want to let the ending drag out. And someone mentioned I might have an itchy italics finger, but there was a method behind it. If you recall in the series, Malcolm loved to emphasize a lot when he spoke. Hence why a lot of is dialogue has words that are italicized. Sue me. :)**

 _I never want this night to end,_ Malcolm thought to himself as he stared longingly into Lydia's eyes. He listened intently as she told him about things like DVRs and devices that you could have in your home to play whatever song you wanted or to make reservations for you. They had odd female names like Alexa and Siri. It was marvelous. But even _more_ marvelous was spending time with her. After her time machine was back to normal, she ran out to run a few quick errands, but came back with pizza, ice cream, and an old 80's movie she knew he would like. He grinned as he remembered how they threw stuff at the screen when the bumbling hero was shown and rooted for the mad evil scientist. It was so corny and cheesy, but it was fantastic, all the same. Afterwards, they indulged on ice cream, using over-sized spoons to eat straight from the cartons. _Why does she have to leave now? I want her to be with me forever!_

"Earth to Malcolm; come in, Malcolm."

He jumped as he heard her call his name and she covered his hand with hers. "Malcolm, I'm afraid it's time. I have to go home now."

"Oh, but why? It's not _fair_ ," he whined.

"It's almost seven o'clock. I said I needed to be back home by then. Come on," she took his hand and led him upstairs to his room. With every step, Malcolm's brain kept trying to come up with some reason to keep her there for another day, but nothing good enough was coming. His brain was a mess with half of it frozen from the ice cream and the other half warm from the feelings he had for her.

"I know you're not going to like what I'm about to say," she started off as she stood in his room, the only lights coming from his computer monitor and his desktop gadgets, "but I am begging you to _please_ end this inane deal you have with Kilokahn. I know you hate Sam for taking Jennifer, but you have to end this. Now."

"I couldn't care less about Jennifer right _now_ ," he cooed, stroking her arm.

Lydia grabbed his hand, forcing him to pay attention. "Then _prove_ it. Destroy Kilokahn. He will throw you under the bus first chance he gets or worse. I don't want to see you on the wrong end of Kilokahn's vengeance."

"But what about my _viruses_ ; my _drawings_?" he asked, glancing around the room. _What about the fact that when you leave, I'll be all alone again?_

"Malcolm, you are a terrific artist. I never doubted that for a moment. But I am begging you to end things with Kilokahn. If you don't do it for yourself, will you at least do it for _me_?"

 _Now why did she have to put it like that?_ Malcolm inwardly groaned. "I-I don't want to say goodbye to you, Lydia. What am I supposed to do after you _leave_?"

"I know you don't like Sam and his friends, but maybe you could at least attempt to occasionally be civil to them? As annoying as you may find them, the fact remains that they know how friendship works. Hey, they helped me out when _you_ were being annoying, remember?" she added the last part with a wink.

"Hey, now," he grinned before turning serious. "I can't promise. But I _will_ promise never to forget you, Lydia Henderson. _Never_."

He lifted his hand to touch her face, but she touched his first, kissing him tenderly. "I will never forget you, either, Malcolm Frink."

He watched as she entered her time machine, turned the dials forward to her time, and lifted her hand in a sweet goodbye before she and her time machine disappeared.

"She really did it. She's really gone," he said to the now empty bedroom. " _Now_ what am I going to do? How on Earth can I live _without_ her?"

He looked over to the computer and nodded. "I-I have to do what she asked. I made the deal with Kilokahn for the sole purpose of getting Jennifer away from Sam. Well, Mr. Goody-Two-Shoes can _have_ Jennifer because Lydia will always be the only one for me."

He started to call for Kilokahn but a white and silver object caught his eye. He picked it up from his desk and saw it was a keychain…Lydia's keychain! But this was a white oval-shaped device on the keychain with a red button and a small display of tiny red bulbs underneath a clear screen. "I wonder if she accidentally left her alarm here," he said before pressing the button and praying it wouldn't set off some ear-splitting noise.

* * *

Lydia was just about to exit her time machine when it began to vibrate. " _Whoa_!"

Seconds later, she was staring back at a very surprised Malcolm. _Well, that didn't take long,_ she grinned.

"You came back for your _keychain_ , I suppose," Malcolm smirked, twirling it on his index finger.

"No, silly. I left it for you. If something should ever happened—an _emergency_ , perhaps—just push that button and I'll come back. It only needs to be used in case of an emergency. Not just because you miss my ability to save people from being mowed down by vehicles or you have a craving for my—"

" _Actually_ ," he cut her off before she could finish, pulling her out of the machine, "I want you to witness this first-hand." He then sat at his desk. "Oh, _Kilokahn_ ; ruler of the digital world…I _call_ you."

Lydia jumped as Kilokahn flashed onto the screen. Oh, how she _hated_ that program!

"Good evening, Meat-Thing. What do you have for me today?"

"A one-way trip to the digital trash compactor. I've decided I don't _need_ you anymore. Lydia has helped me to see that."

"But-but you said you wanted the Lydia meat-thing to be miserable like the _Sam_ meat-thing," Kilokahn replied.

"I _lied_. Truth is, I wanted her to _stay_. I care a great _deal_ about her and I won't let you _hurt_ her or try to talk me into helping you take over the digital or the human world. I made that mistake and I _shan't_ make it again. It's been fun but the time has come to say _goodbye_ , Kilokahn," Malcolm smiled, his finger hovering over the delete button.

"No! You cannot do this to me! I am _Kilokahn_ , _ruler of the digital world_!" he shouted and Lydia found herself giggling.

"Yeah and like I said before; I'm the _Empress of Ebay_!" she cried, giving him a half-hearted finger wave.

Malcolm laughed maniacally and pressed the delete button, causing the screen to go black. He then took out the floppy disk and tossed it on the floor before stomping on it. "There! _That_ should do it. Consider Kilokahn degaussed."

Lydia was overwhelmed with emotions and before she knew it, she grabbed Malcolm by the front of his black shirt and kissed him passionately. "I _love_ you, Malcolm Frink. And I promise I will see you again."

"You-you _love_ me?" Malcolm asked, eyes wide and a huge smile plastered on his face.

Lydia didn't respond before she jumped back in her machine and took off. _Always leave them with a smile,_ she thought to herself, her smile matching his own.

* * *

Sam loved Friday nights. Nothing could be better than hanging out with his friends and waiting until nine o'clock at night to go grab a bite to eat. Ever since school let out early, they had been hanging out at the mall, but Syd, Tank, and even Amp had spent all their money on clothes, shoes, and toys. When it came time to eat, they were all broke. Thankfully, Sam was smart and had some emergency food money stashed in his room.

"Mmm…I can almost smell Mama Rosita's taco salad supreme _now_ ," Tanker said as they came downstairs to Sam's room.

"Down, boy. Let me just get my secret stash and we'll be on—"

"Uh, Sam? You might want to take a look at this first. Someone left a note," Sydney interrupted, pointing to a half-folded note addressed to al of them. It was leaning against the computer monitor.

"It has all our _names_ on it, too," Amp confirmed.

"Aw, so it's not a love note from Jennifer?" Sam grinned as Sydney opened it.

"It's from Lydia," Sydney replied, showing them the note:

 _Dear Sam, Sydney, Tanker, and Amp;_

 _I just wanted to say thanks for everything. I hope you won't be too sore with me, but I know about Sam being Servo and the rest of you helping. I have no idea how you guys managed to get those roles, but your secret is safe with me. I hope that you will also keep my secret, as well. I will miss you so much, but I promise I will come back. Thanks again and you guys still owe me a private concert._

 _Love, Lydia_

 _P.S. If it's not too much trouble, can you guys keep an eye on Malcolm for a while? Since I'm not there, anyway. Thanks._

"Wow. So she knows who we are. I wonder how?" Tanker asked.

"She must've sneaked a peek when we kinda ran her off that night," Sam concluded.

"I'm really gonna miss her!" Amp wailed, using Tanker's jacket sleeve to dab at his eyes.

"You know who _else_ is probably missing her right about now?" Sydney asked.

"I don't like where this is heading," Tanker muttered, jerking his arm away from Amp before he blew his nose on his precious jacket.

"Come on, guys. Lydia asked us to. And we all liked Lydia, right?" Sam picked up the phone and started dialing Malcolm's phone number. Thankfully, he picked up on the second ring. "Uh, Malcolm? It's Sam. Hey, I was wondering if you wanted to meet us at Taco Mama's for some tacos. I hear someone introduced Mama Rosita to something called spaghetti tacos."

"Why on Earth would I want to go with—wait; did you say _spaghetti_ tacos?" Malcolm asked, his tone completely different from the beginning.

"Yeah. Never thought about putting the two together, but it _sounds_ interesting. You wanna meet us there in about fifteen minutes?"

"I-I guess so," Malcolm responded before hanging up quickly.

"He said yes!" Sam cried out, placing the phone back on the cradle. "Let's go, guys."

* * *

"I have done it…I have successfully arrived in the future," he announced as he appeared in the time machine, on the monitor screen. "Malcolm Meat-Thing thought he could just destroy me so easily. Well, he'll have to pay for what he's done. But his demise will come _later_." He looked up and saw that Lydia was in her bed, her back turned to him and the time machine. "But first thing's first: time to destroy the Lydia meat-thing once and for _all_!" he laughed evilly, almost sounding like the hiccups. "Revenge."

 **END NOTE: Ahhh, yes. Did I mention that I am also the Princess of cliff-hangers? Will there be a sequel with more danger, more darkness, and more chaos in the future? Meh, perhaps. We'll just have to wait and see.**


End file.
